


The Secrets of Llulla - Lord Khadae

by Heshen



Series: The Secrets of Llulla [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: Backstory, Gen, Old Republic Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:49:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heshen/pseuds/Heshen
Summary: The Secrets of Llulla is a series of short stories about my Star Wars: The Old Republic character Jedi Consular Llulla.Lord Khadae is a Sith Sorcerer on a simple mission with his Master - to safely transport a group of twenty prospective Sith to Korriban. But since when are such things so simple?





	1. Prologue

The call came in as they were boarding the last of the archaeologists that were being transported back to Dromund Kaas. The Captain had been speaking with two of the guests that had been assigned to the ship, which would be making a quick detour to Korriban before Dromund Kaas, when the nearby holoterminal began to chime. The Dockmaster's image formed upon the Captain's answer.  
"We're sorry to ask this of you Captain, but this is new and you're heading to Korriban anyway." The Dockmaster spoke quietly, as if he wanted to not be overheard, "We've been called about an urgent request. Twelve people, to be delivered immediately to Korriban from the Yavin System. Not prisoners. Comes from the Dark Council. Can you take the charge?"

The Captain turned to the guests he had been speaking to, and they approached. Their appearance was now much clearer to the Dockmaster, who started at their approach. An armoured light brown Human with a horned headpiece and an intricate red marking winding down the right side of his face, accompanied by a smaller person in elaborate and armoured robes along with a horned helmet and mask. Clearly Sith.  
"Twelve extra people to Korriban?" Spoke the tattooed one, burning yellow eyes looking briefly to his masked companion as if in silent conversation, "From the Dark Council? It shouldn't really be a problem, no."


	2. Chapter 1

**_The Discovery_**  
_Class: Gage-Class Imperial Personnel Transport._  
_Registration: Imperial Reclamation Service._  
_Classification: Non-Military. Armaments: None._  
_Crew: 40. Current Passengers: 22._  
_Origin: Yavin System. Destination: Korriban._  
_Current Location: Yavin System._

The small vessel briefly shook before the inertial dampeners compensated for the unexpected impact to the Discovery's shields. The brief shake was enough to send the bridge's incoming arrival into knocking one of the horns of his helm against the open doorway. Despite having clearly been fired upon, the bridge crew still turned their gaze away from and stepped aside for him in deference, busying themselves in maintaining the shields. Even in this case, it would be considered unwise to possibly anger a Sith. 

"M...my Lord Khadae..." the Captain stuttered to him as he approached, "...we are so sorry that we've gotten delayed. We...it...appears that we might have angered a Republic vessel."  
"In Imperial space?" Lord Khadae betrayed no feelings with his voice, and his face was covered by a mask, none could tell what he was thinking. "Is that why we have yet to enter hyperspace?"  
"It just appeared from hyperspace, then started firing, before we had a chance to make our jump." The Captain's concern was clear, "My Lord, most of the crew are archaeologists, our vessel is unarmed, why are we being attacked?" Lord Khadae drifted over to the window at the front of the bridge, the hem of his purple and silver robes moving so slightly that it would seem to onlookers that he was floating. The Captain and crew were watching him silently, only resuming their assigned activity when another shot from the Republic vessel's turbolasers struck their shields. 

Beneath his mask, Lord Khadae had closed his yellow-hued eyes. Sensing, searching, for anything that his eyes possibly hadn't seen. Republic vessel in Imperial space? Certainly. Firing on them? Definitely. But why? There must be something else, they must be covering for something... 

There! Port side. The strength of the Force power that Lord Khadae had sensed struck him like a lightning bolt. He had only once before sensed anything like it, from a powerful Jedi that his Master had not dared let him approach. So, perhaps the assault was a distraction - the crew so concerned with maintaining their defences in the face of the bombardment that they weren't paying attention to a potentially smaller vessel trying to sneak by. A smaller vessel with a painfully powerful Jedi on board.  
To Lord Khadae, the prospect was exhilarating! 

...or was until he could hear his Master's voice forcefully in his mind,  
" _No, Khadae! Find out what the Jedi wants._ "  
" _Spoilsport._ " He telepathically shot back, grudgingly turning on his heel and approaching the ship's holocomm terminal, he attempted to establish a link to the unknown ship.  
"Unknown vessel. This is the transport ship Discovery. You are not hidden from us, please respond." 

* * *

"Something is wrong Master Xu." Xu's silver fur rippled as he stirred from his meditation. Wrong?  
"How could anything be wrong? Everything had been calculated perfectly. Jedi seers don't get things wrong." Came his low hiss to the pilot, not even opening his eyes.  
"That is the thing sir. We're being, uh, hailed by the Imperial ship." Xu's red eyes shot open at this. How did the Imperial ship even know they were there? Did the distraction not work? He pulled himself away from the jumpseat and over to the cockpit.  
"Fine, I'll answer, proceed." With the press of a button on the comms terminal, a holoimage flickered into view - a small humanoid in floor length armoured robes and a masked, horned helmet. Xu's nose unconsciously wrinkled. "Sith." 

"Such a...warm greeting." The Sith's voice was muffled by his face-covering mask, but still audible - and strangely to Xu, relatively neutral despite the brief sarcasm. "I am Lord Khadae, this vessel's passengers are under my and my Master's protection. Why are we being attacked? We are unarmed." If he were any other Cathar, Xu's response would probably have been laughter. As a Jedi however, he remained silent.  
"An Imperial vessel, unarmed? You expect me to believe such Sith lies?"  
"I ask again, why are we being attacked?" Again, the Sith spoke relatively neutral, but a Sith doesn't have to be emotional to lie. That, and why would the Sith be transporting anything so important in an unarmed vessel?  
"You hold something you stole from us, we're getting it back, Sith lies or no." With Xu's subsequent hand signal, the pilot cut the feed, the Sith's dastardly image disappeared. Xu turned to the pilot, "Feigning ignorance is a common tool of the Sith. They are on board, I can sense it, they have them." A bolt from the turbolasers of the Republic vessel flashed by the cockpit's windows and struck the Imperial transport's shields once again. The shields flickered one more time at the strike, before finally giving out.  
"...and now their shields are down sir." Reported the pilot, "Moving in, troops get ready." 

* * *

_“All hands, prepare. We are being boarded. Will all passengers bound for Korriban please move to Suite Five where you shall be secured. All remaining crew ensure that you stay out of harm's way.”_

The Captain's announcement rang throughout the ship. Lord Khadae had taken to meditating on the bridge - or appearing to meditate, he was in fact trying to coordinate the situation with his Master without the risk of being overheard. It was a shame that the ship they were on couldn't have been larger - Suite Five was the most secure area but it could barely fit the twenty people directed to it let alone the remaining forty-two as well, which would have been preferred. It didn't seem like it would matter, the Jedi claimed he was looking for something stolen, the Captain and his Master had both decided that letting the Cathar look for it without resistance would be the best thing. Sure, Lord Khadae thought that playing with the Jedi and letting him bleed a little would certainly be a lot more enjoyable, but while his Master did not disagree with the joy of bleeding Jedi, that might start him killing people. That wouldn't reflect too well on the pair of Sith charged with not letting these people get killed. 

Things did appear to be going well, the bridge had been eerily quiet since the boarding, aside from the Captain's unnerving pacing before one of the consoles, waiting for any updates. Lord Khadae could feel his nervousness - his crew in potential danger, his livelihood at stake, of course his nervousness was emanating from him in waves. It was almost distractin--WHAT! 

Lord Khadae's head snapped up at what he had suddenly sensed through the Force. A thing that was usually joyous, exhilarating...but in this situation, what it means...  
"Captain, I sense death! Someone has been killed!"  
"WHAT!" The Captain charged to the console he had been pacing before. He had been so nervous he hadn't been doing what he was meant to - keeping an eye on the boarders. His hands danced across the console, a holoimage lit up. Indeed, a crewman, dead. A split replay of the feed showing one of the troopers that had boarded with the Jedi gunning him down unprovoked. This was not something unexpected of Republic grunts such as this, but when led by a Jedi, the idea was downright mystifying. The holofeed the Captain now had tracking the boarders was showing an encounter with two other crewmembers. Unarmed, non-confrontational, trying to back away, another trooper turning on them...  
The Captain looked away. Lord Khadae was unsure what to think about the sensation of their deaths. Something is very, very wrong here... 

* * *

The sound of the bridge doors opening, the quiet pad of uncovered paws followed by the heavy jackboots of soldiers. The bridge crew looked up and froze, the Captain seeming to be the only one who could move. The Captain stepped forward to confront his visitors, stepping before Lord Khadae as the masked Sith continued his meditation-like kneeling.  
"You attacked my unarmed ship," The Captain was saying, Lord Khadae was paying partial attention to the situation and partial attention to what his Master was conveying to him, "You have killed most of my crew, who were also in the majority unarmed. Why? You claim we have something of yours, what is it? What in this universe is so important that a Jedi murders the undefended?"  
"Justice." Came the Cathar's answer, "You have kidnapped, and kidnappers must face justice. I do not know how you managed to overcome them, but the idea that you're unarmed and you did that, it reeks of Sith lies even worse than what that one behind you has already spouted." Lord Khadae could hear the tension in the Jedi's voice, feel the tinges of anger trying to break through his carefully maintained calm, sense the heat of the Jedi activating his lightsaber.  
Oh...Lord Khadae knew what might be coming next...this Cathar Jedi's "justice". 

It took only one scream - the Captain's, to draw Lord Khadae to his feet. Sure, reacting to death by trying to protect the attacked was hardly a very Sith-like thing to do, but his and his Master's duty was meant to be in protecting those being transported, and protecting the rest of the crew was generally a good way to go about it. Blue lightning danced around Lord Khadae's fingertips, the surge of Force power erupting as a lightning arc striking the nearest of the troopers. Feeling the soldier being struck, sensing his death, that was much better. Lord Khadae's attack turned to the other Republican troopers, lightning jumping between them, an overcharge briefly jumping to Lord Khadae's helmet horns before joining another lance directed at the troopers. Through all this was a barely heard cry through the Force. No, a shout. Telepathic.  
" _Back off! Khadae, back!_ " 

Pain. Nothing like he had felt before.  
Lord Khadae's halt in attack and retreat at his Master's shout had been enough, but not quite. The Jedi's thrown lightsaber had still met it's target, though it had not killed him as it would have done if he had not backed away. Lord Khadae had been struck by training sabers many times, but never had he been with an actual lightsaber. His mask and helmet were smoking, the intense heat having melted the metal and singed the fabric. The protection that they provided having been compromised, Lord Khadae pulled them off his head. 

A cascade of red hair loosed from his helm fell across his shoulders, framing an elaborately tattooed green face. The fresh lightsaber burn marring some of the black and red marks, the swelling from the wound giving him difficulty in keeping his yellow eyes open.  
"You're...Mirialan..." Lord Khadae would have judged the comment to be in surprise if the one saying it were not Jedi.  
"You're Jedi." Came Lord Khadae's retort, "Aren't we Sith the ones meant to be engaging themselves in mayhem and bloodbaths?" Silence, for a considerable amount of time given the situation. Cathar and Mirialan, Jedi and Sith, both unmoving, both silent.  
"I see how it is," The Jedi was the first to stir, closing his red eyes lightly, "I see now. You are Sith. I have to look at you as Sith. You are not Mirialan, you're Sith. Sith are not Mirialan, so you are not Mirialan." Lord Khadae had barely enough time to process these words before he could sense the Jedi reignite his lightsaber. He charged his lightning again, but he could still sense the Jedi's power. Even if the painful burn across his face hadn't nearly swollen his eyes shut, he understood now that he didn't really stand a chance in close quarters combat against a Jedi skilled with a saber. 

For one taught how to fight in an offensive manner, being put onto the defensive is difficult. There were times where Lord Khadae's combat training had no solution, so he was obliged to having to dodge, relying on blind-fighting skills he had yet to properly perfect. He didn't carry a lightsaber, he was not very adept at their use and usually would be fighting from range - but trying to get out of close quarters was being quickly countered with having an unknown kind of Force energy being hurled at him, delaying him long enough for the hot plasma blade to come for him again. A new searing of pain as a misstep caused the blade to contact his chest, not enough to make any kind of deep impact, but enough to damage the connectors between his pauldrons and breastplate, dropping what armour his robes had to the ground and leaving a fresh reddened mark across his collarbone and pectorals. He stumbled back from the strike, bumping into a forgotten console, unsure of what would follow though expecting another strike. 

The sound of plasma hitting plasma made Lord Khadae lift his head and attempt to open his eyes in spite of the swelling. A large form he couldn't quite make out stood before him, holding a pair of red lights that blocked a green one.  
"Master."  
"My apologies for taking so long, and using you to hold off a Jedi until our plan was completed." Coming from any other Sith, this response would sound like a lie. Coming from Darth Troskohn however, the only Sith who would look beyond Lord Khadae being Mirialan to focus on his actual power, it was actually genuine. The larger Sith turned to the Jedi whose lightsaber he was barring, "Hey Tooka, how about picking on someone your own size!" The sound of lightsabers humming, slicing through the air, clashing, as two masters of lightsaber combat began duelling. Lord Khadae used the brief window to pull himself from the console he was leaning upon, observing the duel through the Force from further away. Both of their Force power was immense, a much greater balance than in comparison with him, it was little wonder as to why he was so easily overwhelmed despite the power he did have. _Well, that means more training, more power._ Lord Khadae mused, _So when Master is finished with this Cathar, we can get back to Korriban and work on training more._

With twin red blades breaking through the Jedi's trained defence and plunging straight into his furry chest, Lord Khadae let out a gleeful cry. He could sense the Jedi's coming end, a laugh from Darth Troskohn seeming to seal it. A laugh that was caught in his throat as the Jedi, with what must have been the last of his strength, thrust his lightsaber at Darth Troskohn, the blade burying itself in the Human Sith's throat. All three blades deactivated at the same time, dropping from their owner's hands, soon followed by their bodies. The silver Cathar collapsed onto the corpse of the Captain, Darth Troskohn slumped to the floor against the holoterminal. Both very much dead. Lord Khadae screamed, running over to where he had last sensed them standing. 

The smell of burnt flesh and smouldering armour lingered in the air. There were dead Republican soldiers, dead Imperial pilots, a dead Jedi, a dead Sith, corpses everywhere. As Lord Khadae stood where the last battle had taken place, he could sense no one on the bridge. Observing this, pain that had been throbbing in the background began searing again, the burns across his face and chest feeling like they were being redone with each breath. Lord Khadae just sank to his knees, kneeling beside his Master's corpse. He dropped onto his side, his head laid upon Darth Troskohn's chest, what vision he had beneath swollen eyes wavering at the welling of tears, before darkening as he lost consciousness.


	3. Chapter 2

"--should stay here where it is safe." The voice was familiar, recognisable, full of love.  
_Mother...?_ With the unspoken thought, a beautiful tattooed green female face appeared to him, smiling and happy, but stern.  
"I told you it is dangerous," she firmly lectured, "Will you please stop trying to chance it? We might not be slaves, but nor are we Human." Her face started flickering and fading, "I don't want you brought home in a box after an angry Sith has fried yo--" She was gone.

Darkness, emptiness, nothingness, a smouldering grief. Where even was he? He could not move, could not speak. There were sounds, voices, echoing all around him. 

"What is this?" Another voice had made itself manifest, understandable. This one was even easier to recognise. Darth Troskohn. Though unable to move, he could feel the sting of tears. Darth Troskohn, the only Sith who looked beyond his green skin to see the Force blooming within. Now he was dead. He was...he...  
He found himself staring into the yellow eyes and brown face of his Master, one blond eyebrow raised at him, distorting the shape of his intricate Sith tattoo.  
"Interesting. What were you doing in my taxi? Perhaps I..." His voice trailed off and his yellow eyes closed for a time, "...curious, you hold power in the Force, yet you are Miriala--" The vision faded in the same way as the one of his mother. 

No, not visions, memories. The pain of his loss became greater in his realisation as images, voices, emotions flashed before him. Some he recognised, some he did not. His parents' worried faces as Darth Troskohn visited their home after he had sneaked into the Sith Warrior's taxi to look at the Kaas City Citadel. Brutally hard training sessions that he was forced through on Ziost. Fumbling his training saber yet again, causing him to bonk himself in the nose with it, Darth Troskohn slapping his forehead with a palm at every error before shaking his head and lightly laughing. Lighting up a vile rainy day on Dromund Kaas with with brilliant blue lightning and dusting the area with the metallic smell of blood, Darth Troskohn proudly pulling off his face mask and daubing some of the blood on his green forehead, naming him "Khadae, the deceiver"... 

Was this what was meant by the turn of phrase "life flashing before your eyes"? What did it mean? Was he dead? No! No, he can't be dead! He was still seeing, hearing, feeling...  
The images began slowing down again, and these were once more recognisable. Recent. 

Approaching the holoterminal in the starport as the Captain was filled in about additional passengers, he had telepathically asked of Darth Troskohn something that bothered him about the Dockmaster's statement.  
_"What is so important about a group of twelve people going to Korriban that the Dark Council saw fit to get involved?"_. He did not recall the Sith Warrior's reply. 

The sound of a klaxon blaring along the entire route he took to the Discovery's bridge, wondering what was so important as the noise had broken him from the conversation he was having with one of the escorted passengers. The door opening, a turbolaser impact on the shields causing him to stumble and his helmet's right horn to strike the doorway. 

Kneeling on the bridge, appearing to be in meditation. Sensing through the Force. Sensing everything. Nervousness at a peak, fear swirling around him as if caught in one of Korriban's sand devils, a lot of anger directed at personal feelings of helplessness. The cries of death weaving its way through them all. This was usually something he loved and revelled in. This however was not enjoyable, it was not fun, it was wrong. This was a Jedi, a powerful Jedi, killing people that were meant to be protected...and he was not allowed to do anything about it. Every comment, suggestion, reaction he gave was being shot down, blocked, barred. He wanted to rip the Jedi in half and dance in his entrails, but even that delightful thought was interrupted with,  
_"Shut up and sit there, I'll tell you when to make a move."_

_"Give me time Khadae, move now!"_  
It didn't take much encouragement to start off the lightning when his Master had said to, just the Captain's corpse dropping to the floor would have been enough, he would have thrown even without permission. Everything his Master had prevented him doing had built up and had then been released in a fit of anger. Of course, he saw now, that had been his Master's intent. He had been barred on purpose, allowed to get angry, he was the distraction - Darth Troskohn hadn't quite finished something...something...what had he even been doing? 

A flash of red, not seen with his eyes but seen through the Force. No, not just the colour, there was something else. Eyes, he just saw eyes, red eyes. That Cathar had red eyes...yes, they were his. Staring down at him when he was having difficulty holding his own open after being struck in the face with the Jedi's lightsaber. It felt like they were dissecting him, exploring, taunting. Of course, the Cathar had been expecting a Human, not a Mirialan. The Cathar's words echoed around after his eyes had gone, _Sith are not Mirialan, so you are not Mirialan_. A Jedi, unused to feeling surprised, resorting to insults to explain away his emotions. That same Jedi that had no problem seeing his Master as Sith, who had killed him... 

More darkness, but now punctuated even greater with the sting of tears, the smouldering grief welling up even more around him. The darkness would be broken with yet more voices. Unfamiliar this time, but instead of memories, they brought him hatred, deep hatred. He did not know what they were speaking of, but the accent was Republican. He tried to block them, close them off, return to his darkened well of grief...  
_JEDI!_  
Sensing the bolt of their power through the Force revived him from his semi-consciousness, the stinking trail of Jedi was burning through the Force and lighting everything it passed. More than one Jedi, their power each burning as brightly as that Cathar's had. Had they not done enough? Did they not see what they had done already? How dare they even think to step a foot in this place! He could sense himself dragging his tattered and half dressed form from the deck. Could feel the sudden weight of a lightsaber in his shaky green hand. Barely open eyes could still see the red beam as the blade ignited. His legs moved, he hurtled toward them.  
Those red eyes appeared again, staring at him, mocking.  
These Jedi! After what they had done! How dare they, **how dare they!**


	4. Chapter 3

Lord Khadae's eyes slid open about halfway, his face apparently still swollen enough to prevent them opening fully. He felt numb, and lost. Where was he? It was bright, he was in some kind of lit room, his eyes staring at the pretty featureless ceiling of a spaceship. A face appeared in his field of view, a curious face of pastel blue with complex white patterns topped with a pair of long striped montrals. His brain barely registered the connection of her appearance with "Togruta" before she pulled away with a gasp and bolted from the room. _What just...?_ He attempted to pull himself up, a strong pain raced through his chest as he tried, causing him to slump back down upon the cot he was laid upon. The pain in his face then began again in earnest, and he screamed.

He did not know how long it was, but he was soon taken with a cooling sensation, the pain slowly easing. Someone - it would have to be someone - using the Force to ease his pain. It took some time, but it eventually subsided, and he could open his eyes. Half open yellow eyes met with curious purple ones, purple eyes belonging to a beautiful green Twi'lek woman. The two were entirely silent, before the Force began screaming at him, her Force ability becoming clear to him now.  
_Jedi! This is a Jedi!_  
Lord Khadae pulled himself back against the wall, struck by an intense fear and anger. 

"Don't be afraid." Her words seemed almost amusing given the situation, and would probably have evoked a laugh had Lord Khadae not been so paralysed by fear, pressing himself as close to that wall as he could manage. The Twi'lek Jedi sat herself upon the edge of the cot, "Okay, maybe that was the wrong thing to say." She continued, her tone attempting to be reassuring, "I can sense your fear, and your anger. Considering how you were found, it isn't surprising." In spite of his fear, a twinge of curiosity peeked though, which it was clear that the Jedi had noticed - given that the Cathar Jedi had murdered most, perhaps all, of the crew, why was he sitting here speaking to a Jedi. Why did they spare him? 

_Wait? Does that mean I'm still on the Discovery? What am I doing here?_

"We found you on the bridge." The Twi'lek began to explain, he was hardly going to stop her, "You were laid unconscious atop the body of a dead Sith. We honestly thought you were dead like everyone else, though why anyone was dead I do not know." Lord Khadae gave an incredulous snort at that, and she stopped her explanation and shook her head. "I honestly do not know, it isn't something a Jedi would do." She did not respond to the second snort given, and instead opted to continue her previous explanation. "It takes a lot to surprise a Jedi, but we certainly didn't expect you to stand, let alone use the Force to pick up a discarded lightsaber." She shook her head, "You were angry, very angry, but you were also weak and scared. I am still unsure as to how you even kept hold of that lightsaber let alone managed to turn it on. My old Master looked like he was going to impale you when you came charging, said you must be a Sith of some kind." So, he hadn't just imagined it. He had sensed Jedi, he had pulled himself up and had charged them with a lightsaber. He thought that had been a dream.  
"So why didn't he impale me?"  
"You couldn't keep the lightsaber active for more than a few seconds, I stepped in his way and grabbed your arm. You dropped the lightsaber and passed out again. Quite sure a huge and powerful Sith Lord would know how to use a lightsaber properly." Lord Khadae hoped that he covered up quickly enough the sudden rush of red to his cheeks. He did know how to use a lightsaber properly, he just wasn't adept at close quarters combat. Though perhaps...that weakness had just saved his life. It was shameful!  
A flash of red, those mocking eyes...  
He curled himself into a small ball upon the cot. 

The Twi'lek touched his shoulder reassuringly, he didn't like it.  
"It did take me some time to convince him to not throw you out of an airlock though." A shame, being thrown out of an airlock would be nice right now, he just attempted to make himself smaller. The Jedi did attempt to make other reassuring gestures, none of which had any effect, until the door to the room slid open. Lord Khadae quickly uncurled himself at sensing the Force power of the person entering the room. It was even more powerful than that Cathar's. The man who entered was a balding Human whose remaining hair was bright ginger. His head turned, as hazel eyes scanned the room, a complex web of cybernetics becoming visible on the right side of his face. Those eyes continued their movement before settling upon him, the look the man gave was confusing even to Lord Khadae. He could tell contempt, mixed with a dash of hostility, confusion, and interest, backed with an undercurrent of hate. This man was clearly dressed as a Jedi, not just any Jedi either but held the air and power of a Jedi Master, why was he sensing any emotion from this man let alone several? His look and feeling changed entirely as soon as he looked over to the Twi'lek woman.  
"There you are Eva. We still cannot get the doors open, and someone locked out the computer. It is likely to be that dead Sith. Come with me, we're searching for answers." His voice was deep and deadpan, completely monotonous. The Twi'lek - Eva - opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off swiftly, "We can interrogate your green Sith later, if the dead one provides no clue. Leave it alone and come." The woman stood up, though clearly with hesitation, and approached the Human at the door as he began walking away, countering as the door closed.  
"But Master Leyten, Sith don't come in Mirialan!" 

He was left alone. Alone aside from his thoughts. Hmph, there had been that line again, the Cathar said something similar. "Sith don't come in Mirialan". He was getting fed up with hearing it, especially from Jedi. This Sith is Mirialan. Stupid Jedi. Though there was something about that ginger haired Human Jedi, something he didn't understand, but that he didn't like. He sat a while on the cot, trying to understand what, staring up at the ceiling for some time.  
_Perhaps you're thinking of the wrong thing._  
Wait, what had that Jedi said? "cannot get the doors open", "locked out of the computer", "likely to be that dead Sith". That last reference must be Darth Troskohn, but what doors? The...hang on, he was still on the Discovery right? The locked doors...Suite Five, where the passengers had been locked away for their protection. Why would the Jedi be trying to get in there? 

Lord Khadae pulled himself up and slowly made his way to a computer terminal - with there being no access to the computer, there wasn't really much of a reason for the Jedi to block him from it. He thumbed on the terminal, and indeed, the system was locked out, the terminal displaying a clear message denying access. There was something else though, small, and not in the simple lettering of Aurebesh. A script that to some would just look like patterns or a computer glitch if you did not know it. Kittât, the script of High Sith. As a Sith Sorcerer, Lord Khadae knew how to read High Sith, it was a vital resource.  
_"Woyunoks, Darth Dyn qo asha. Nwûl tash."_ Read the beautiful writing. The last part was part of the Sith Code that he and his Master had used as a lock code before, but the first part? "Darth Dyn is the path to victory"? What? Lord Khadae knew who this was referring to - Darth Dyn was a Sith Pureblood, his Master's Master. What did this mean? How could this Sith, that Darth Troskohn always joked that even the Dark Council would avoid angering because he would give them a multi-hour long lecture about how much he was disappointed in all of them, be of help right now? 

Hold on, the Dark Council...  
"What is so important about a group of twelve people going to Korriban that the Dark Council saw fit to get involved?"  
That is what Darth Troskohn had said about those new passengers!  
"If these are the ones I am thinking about, these twelve are Jedi defectors."  
The Jedi were looking for these twelve defectors, and Darth Troskohn had been working on a way to get them there safely, as was their mission. It just wasn't finished.  
Lord Khadae would finish it. 

* * *

Sensing no Jedi beyond the door to the room in which he had been placed, Lord Khadae slipped his way out and into a brightly lit corridor. Yes, he was definitely still on the Discovery, and not actually that far from Suite Five. That isn't where he needed to go however, he needed to be where his Master had been earlier - at one of the computer's server terminals would be most likely, that would be the easiest place to lock out the computer. It was not nearby though, but a hatch leading to one of the ship's maintenance tunnels was however. Checking around him and sensing no one nearby, he wrenched off the hatch cover and pulled himself inside, following the tunnel in the direction he hoped was correct. Hmph, hope, how un-Sithlike a thing to put one's faith in. Faith and the Force though was really all he had right now, and the occasional pulsing in his facial burn that reminded him of what could easily be worse if he failed. 

He emerged from the dusty hatch into one of the ship's server rooms, brushing himself off and wondering why a tunnel for maintenance was not very well maintained. Hurriedly, he brought himself to one of the terminals, inputting the last phrase of Kittât that had been on the computer terminal's screen.  
_Nwûl tash; Peace is a Lie._  
The computer unlocked, presenting Lord Khadae with a list of locked out systems that he could reactivate. Without hesitation, he reactivated the communication system and ran through the recent contacts, immediately setting up a call to Darth Dyn. 

"--was expecting a signal, not a call. Oh." The shape that appeared on the smaller holoterminal turned, revealing the speaker to be a rather regal looking Sith Pureblood adorned in golden jewellery and an elaborate black and gold robe. He had what appeared to be small horn spikes on his forehead with a gold chain between their tips, long facial tendrils that began quivering at their bejewelled ends, and long greying red hair threaded with Kittât-incised beads. Mid orange eyes quickly scanned over Lord Khadae's green face. "...and I was expecting my little old apprentice, not my little green grandson." Those eyes narrowed and his voice softened, "You are injured, just what is going on?" This was hardly unusual for Darth Dyn, Lord Khadae had always found him to be a charming and doting man, just not one you'd want to anger or disappoint. Ordinarily, he'd be fine explaining things to Darth Dyn, but right now he didn't really have the time.  
"A lot of things, I'll explain later. My Master was planning something with you, what was it?" He looked around, didn't know how much time he would have, “It looks like I'm going to have to finish it off, and I expect it won't be too long before some Jedi find out that I've disappeared." Darth Dyn's eyes visibly widened,  
"Jedi..." He shook his head, the sounds of beads, rings, and chains followed his head movement. "Darth Troskohn was working on gathering the occupants of Suite Five into the connecting shuttle bay, then he was to signal me and I would get them to Korriban. All done. Nothing was said about Jedi! Let me get my saber and I'll march on there and I'll kill them for you!" The anger was rising on Darth Dyn's red face, the slight quivering of his tendril tips becoming more pronounced and extending across the entire tendril. Darth Dyn knew that the Jedi had hurt him, Lord Khadae didn't even need to use the Force to sense it.  
"Let's go with the plan first," Lord Khadae tried to calm the elder Sith somewhat, "they might get caught in the crossfire if you start gutting Jedi, powerful as you are." Not much change, angry Sith and wriggling tendrils still very visible. "Tell me how to do what I'm doing, we can finish this off, and then...I don't know, you can take a shuttle back here and go gut some Jedi?" That seemed to work enough, thoughtful Sith with wriggling tendrils instead.  
"Alright. A slight change of plan though, I think. Here is what we shall do..." 

* * *

A klaxon once again blared throughout the Discovery's halls and echoed across the darkened bridge, though for what reason Master Leyten did not know, not until he looked out of the Transport's large bridge window. A ship had suddenly emerged from hyperspace, and this time, the ship that had emerged behind the two Republican Corvettes was Imperial - a Terminus-Class Destroyer if he remembered his Imperial ship designs correctly - and it had immediately started firing upon one of them! There soon were other ships too - fighters judging from their size - that had likely been launched by the Destroyer, and they had set their sights on targetting the other flanking Corvette. The Discovery, situated between and facing the rear of the two vessels, had prime viewing space through its bridge window. The Corvettes were being shot from the rear, the side-facing Destroyer in a perfect position for its banks of turbolaser cannons to strike its targetted Corvette's engines, while the Corvette couldn't fire back. With the computer locked on the Discovery, the smaller Transport wasn't going to be of any help to them. 

Eva approached Master Leyten now, giving glances out of the window at the ongoing battle - though the shots were being scattered by the Corvette's shields, the vessels couldn't bank so easily under heavy fire in order to return fire. The little Twi'lek looked over to her old Master.  
"Master, what is happening? How could anyone know?" Before he had been able to give some kind of answer, even though it would have been that he was unsure, an electronic hum started up on the bridge. The Discovery's main bridge holoterminal had somehow activated, and an image flickered on - that of a Sith Pureblood in elaborate black robes and a lot of golden jewellery.  
"Darth Dyn..." Master Leyten muttered under his breath. The image of Darth Dyn smiled and shifted triumphantly, the sound of his jewellery clinking together was audible across the bridge.  
"How do you like it, hm Jedi?" The Sith image's orange eyes looked between Master Leyten and Eva as if he were upon a throne and looking down upon them, "Appearing out of nowhere and attacking ships. Unlike that little Transport ship you're holding there though, sadly, mine is actually armed and will gladly tear these cute little Corvettes of yours apart." The Force rang out in Master Leyten's head, people dying. Turning his eyes to the bridge window, he saw that the Destroyer had broken through the shields of its targetted Corvette, explosions had started across the Corvette's hull as the relentless assault continued. The Sith's image inhaled sharply and gave a satisfied sigh, likely a response to the same sense of death. Disgusting Sith. "Don't forget Jedi," the words coming from the red creature's mouth were now syrupy sweet, "you're in Imperial space, where you shouldn't be, and here I was on the way to a diplomatic event. Oh how splendid it would be to tell this to all of your Republic diplomats, won't they be just the greatest sight?"  
"Someone shut off this gloating Sith." Master Leyten's stoic command rang across the bridge, but no one heeded the words, every trooper on the bridge was either fixated on the Sith or the ongoing battle outside. The second Corvette's targetted engines had started smoking now, and they were having trouble trying to engage the fighters still at their tail. 

A spark in the Force crossed Master Leyten's mind, and the hum of electronics became more pronounced. The ship's computer must be back up and running, but how and why? The spark he sensed in the Force was in motion, and he looked out of the window. A small shuttle, heading away from the Discovery between the damaged and disabled Corvettes, one of an Imperial design! The computer powering on, the shuttle...the passengers! That shuttle came from the Discovery! He could sense those traitorous Jedi they had come for on that shuttle, and it was heading straight to the Destroyer! Master Leyten's hazel eyes widened in shock and surprise before quickly returning to their impassive state. Laughter sounded across the bridge, and Master Leyten looked over at the image of Darth Dyn, who was howling in amusement.  
"It looks like someone figured it out, finally. I'm surprised your lightsaber-damaged brain could even comprehend at all. Too late Jedi, you'll find that those are ours now, that is what they want after all." The image changed its focus, it looked as if it was staring at empty space, "Woyunoks, zhol kash dinora. Wonoksh nu Woyunoks. Go." With that, the image of the gloating sarcastic Sith flickered and faded, the large Destroyer turning as the shuttle pulled into its belly and disappearing into hyperspace. The electronic hum of the ship had not disappeared, however. How did the computer reactivate? The ship's crew were dead, even that dastardly Darth Troskohn was dead, he even saw that vile being's corpse with his own eyes! How could...  
_The figure in the silver and purple robe turned to face him, the lights of the bridge glinting across the horns of his helmet. Though a mask covered his face so his appearance could not be determined, he must have some connection with--_  
"That green Sith! Who was keeping an eye on that green Sith?" Master Leyten turned as he spoke. Eva caught up to and followed him as he stormed off the bridge. 

* * *

Lord Khadae had been listening in on Darth Dyn's transmission as he worked behind the scenes, directing the passengers through the connecting doors to the shuttle bay connected to Suite Five. The Discovery may be a little differently equipped to a standard vessel of its class due to being a non-military vessel, but shuttlecraft are something that it did have. He had been secretly activating the required systems while Darth Dyn ran distraction until the pathway was clear, then activating the ship wide systems in order to launch the shuttle. Upon its safe launch, he sat back in relief as Darth Dyn insulted the ginger Jedi, but snapped back to full attention at hearing the elder Sith switch to speaking High Sith. He now had his way out, Darth Dyn said that he would come for him...but go...? Go? Oh! Jedi! 

He sprang to his feet, ignoring the now active computer system, scurrying back the way he came through the maintenance tunnel. He ran back to the room the Jedi had placed him in and charged back inside. Jedi-less, safe. He had made it onto the cot and laid himself down before the door slid itself open, the imposing Human Jedi Master and the little green Twi'lek Jedi standing in the doorway.  
"See Master, he is here. I've said several times that Sith don't come in green." The hazel-eyed Human gave Lord Khadae a quick glare before turning and stomping off. The Twi'lek, Eva, entered the room. "I'm sorry, something has happened. He thought it was you...and he still thinks you're some kind of Sith, been telling people your eyes make you Sith." She shook her head, "Who are you anyway?" Lord Khadae thought quickly, he had to give them some kind of a name to allay any more suspicion.  
"Er...Llulla. My name, that is. Llulla." 

The Discovery gave a judder, the engines started powering up. Lord Khadae's eyes widened in shock as he pulled himself to his feet. 

The Discovery took off into hyperspace, leaving the remains of the two Republic ships behind them.


	5. Epilogue

As promised, Darth Dyn had taken a shuttle from the Destroyer he had commandeered and turned back to the site of the Discovery. The crew of the Destroyer had objected of course, but were they really going to attempt to stop a Lord of the Sith?

The small assault shuttle re-entered normal space at about the point that the Destroyer had started its attack. This time however, Darth Dyn couldn't sense Lord Khadae, or any Force user for that matter. The remains of the two Corvettes hung in space, ships and shuttles ferrying their survivors away from their damaged hulks of metal. Of the Discovery though, there was nothing. It was gone, entirely. Had the Jedi taken it? Why? What use was a non-military Personnel Transport to them?   
Where was Lord Khadae? 

Darth Dyn ran through the shuttle's sensor readings, flicking through the debris, hoping he wouldn't find a little green body, hoping he was hiding out on one of the Corvette's rescue ships. Nothing. He wasn't here. Frantically, he searched again, bejewelled fingers dancing desperately across the shuttle's controls. Nothing. Still nothing. His mind flashed away from the scene, conjuring images of his little green grandson being tortured and abused by Jedi. They had taken him, the Jedi, they would do things to him, they would... 

Darth Dyn slammed his hands down on the console and screamed in anguish and despair to the void of space before him.


End file.
